Thu, 30 Jul 2015

We got a surprise a few nights ago when flipping the porch light on
to take the trash out: a bat was clinging to the wall just outside
the front door.

It was tiny, and very calm -- so motionless we feared it was dead.
(I took advantage of this to run inside and grab the camera.)
It didn't move at all while we were there. The trash mission
accomplished, we turned out the light and left the bat alone.
Happily, it wasn't ill or dead: it was gone a few hours later.

We see bats fairly regularly flying back and forth across the
patio early on summer evenings -- insects are apparently attracted
to the light visible through the windows from inside, and the bats
follow the insects. But this was the first close look I'd had at a
stationary bat, and my first chance to photograph one.

I'm not completely sure what sort of bat it is: almost certainly
some species of Myotis (mouse-eared bats), and most likely
M. yumanensis, the "little brown bat". It's hard to be sure,
though, as there are at least six species of Myotis known in the area.

We've had several woodrats recently try to set up house near the house or
the engine compartment of our Rav4, so we've been setting traps regularly.
Though woodrats are usually nocturnal, we caught one in broad daylight as
it explored the area around our garden pond.

But the small patio outside the den seems to be a particular draw for
them, maybe because it has a wooden deck with a nice dark space under it
for a rat to hide. We have one who's been leaving offerings -- pine
cones, twigs, leaves -- just outside the door (and less charming rat
droppings nearby), so one night Dave set three traps all on that deck.
I heard one trap clank shut in the middle of the night, but when
I checked in the morning, two traps were sprung without any occupants
and the third was still open.

But later that morning, I heard rattling from outside the door.
Sure enough, the third trap was occupied and the occupant was darting
between one end and the other, trying to get out. I told Dave we'd
caught the rat, and we prepared to drive it out to the parkland where
we've been releasing them.

And then I picked up the trap, looked in -- and discovered it was a
pretty funny looking woodrat. With a furry tail and stripes.
A chipmunk! We've been so envious of the folks who live out on the
canyon rim and are overloaded with chipmunks ... this is only the
second time we've seen here, and now it's probably too spooked to
stick around.

We released it near the woodpile, but it ran off away from the house.
Our only hope for its return is that it remembers the nice peanut
butter snack it got here.

Later that day, we were on our way out the door, late for a meeting,
when I spotted a small lizard in the den. (How did it get in?)
Fast and lithe and purple-tailed, it skittered under the sofa as soon
as it saw us heading its way.

But the den is a small room and the lizard had nowhere to go. After
upending the sofa and moving a couple of tables, we cornered it by the
door, and I was able to trap it in my hands without any damage to its tail.

When I let it go on the rocks outside, it calmed down
immediately, giving me time to run for the camera.
Its gorgeous purple tail doesn't show very well, but at least the photo
was good enough to identify it as a juvenile Great Plains skink.
The adults look more like Jabba the Hut
nothing like the lovely little juvenile we saw.
We actually saw an adult this spring (outside), when we were clearing
out a thick weed patch and disturbed a skink from its hibernation.
And how did this poor lizard get saddled with a scientfic
name of Eumeces obsoletus?

Tue, 21 Oct 2014

I went out this morning to check the traps, and found the mousetrap
full ... of something large and not at all mouse-like.

It was a young bullsnake. Now slender and maybe a bit over two feet long,
it will eventually grow into a larger relative of the gopher snakes
that I used to see back in California. (I had a gopher snake as a pet
when I was in high school -- they're harmless, non-poisonous and
quite docile.)

The snake watched me alertly as I peered in, but it didn't seem
especially perturbed to be trapped.
In fact, it was so non-perturbed that when I opened the trap,
the snake stayed right where it was. It had found a nice comfortable
resting place, and it wasn't very interested in moving on a cold morning.

I had to poke it gently through the bars, hold the trap vertically
and shake for a while before the snake grudgingly let go and slithered
out onto the ground.

I wondered if it had found its way into the trap by chasing a mouse,
but I didn't see any swellings that looked like it had eaten recently.
I'm fairly sure it wasn't interested in the peanut butter bait.

I released the snake in a spot near the shed where the mousetrap is set up.
There are certainly plenty of mice there for it to eat, and gophers
when it gets a little larger, and there are lots of nice black basalt
boulders to use for warming up in the morning, and gopher holes to hide in.
I hope it sticks around -- gopher/bullsnakes are good neighbors.

Wed, 20 Aug 2014

Like the previous mouse we'd caught, it was nervous about coming out
of the trap: it poked its nose out, but didn't want to come the rest
of the way.

Dave finally got impatient, picked up the trap and turned it opening down,
so the mouse would slide out.

It turned out to be the world's scruffiest mouse, which immediately
darted toward me. I had to step back and stand up to follow it on camera.
(Yes, I know my camera technique needs work. Sorry.)

Then it headed up the hill a ways before finally lapsing into the
high-bounding behavior we've seen from other mice and rats we've released.
I know it's hard to tell in the last picture -- the photo is so small --
but look at the distance between the mouse and its shadow on the ground.

Very entertaining! I don't understand why anyone uses killing traps --
even if you aren't bothered by killing things unnecessarily, the
entertainment we get from watching the releases is worth any slight
extra hassle of using the live traps.

Sat, 12 Jul 2014

One great thing about living in the country: the wildlife.
I love watching animals and trying to photograph them.

One down side of living in the country: the wildlife.

Mice in the house! Pack rats in the shed and the crawlspace!
We found out pretty quickly that we needed to learn about traps.

We looked at traps at the local hardware store. Dave assumed we'd get
simple snap-traps, but I wanted to try other options first.
I'd prefer to avoid killing if I don't have to, especially killing in
what sounds like a painful way.

They only had one live mousetrap. It was a flimsy plastic thing,
and we were both skeptical that it would work.
We made a deal: we'd try two of them for a week or two, and when (not
if) they didn't work, then we'd get some snap-traps.

We baited the traps with peanut butter and left them in the areas where
we'd seen mice. On the second morning, one of the traps had
been sprung, and sure enough, there was a mouse inside! Or at least a
bit of fur, bunched up at the far inside end of the trap.

We drove it out to open country across the highway, away from houses.
I opened the trap, and ... nothing.
I looked in -- yep, there was still a furball in there. Had we somehow
killed it, even in this seemingly humane trap?

I pointed the open end down and shook the trap. Nothing came out.
I shook harder, looked again, shook some more.
And suddenly the mouse burst out of the plastic box
and went HOP-HOP-HOPping across the grass away from us,
bounding like a tiny kangaroo over tufts of grass,
leaving us both giggling madly.
The entertainment alone was worth the price of the traps.

Since then we've seen no evidence of mice inside, and neither of the
traps has been sprung again. So our upstairs and downstairs mice must
have been the same mouse.

But meanwhile, we still had a pack rat problem (actually, probably,
white-throated woodrats, the creature that's called a pack rat locally).
Finding no traps for sale at the hardware store, we went to Craigslist,
where we found a retired wildlife biologist just down the road
selling three live Havahart rat traps. (They also had some raccoon-sized
traps, but the only raccoon we've seen has stayed out in the yard.)

We bought the traps, adjusted one a bit where its trigger mechanism
was bent, baited them with peanut butter and set them in likely locations.
About four days later, we had our first captive little brown furball.
Much smaller than some of the woodrats we've seen; probably just a youngster.

We drove quite a bit farther than we had for the mouse. Woodrats can
apparently range over a fairly wide area, and we didn't want to let it
go near houses. We hiked a little way out on a trail, put the trap down
and opened both doors. The woodrat looked up, walked to one open end
of the trap, decided that looked too scary; walked to the other open
end, decided that looked too scary too; and retreated back to the
middle of the trap.

We had to tilt and shake the trap a bit, but eventually the woodrat
gathered up its courage, chose a side, darted out and
HOP-HOP-HOPped away into the bunchgrass, just like the mouse had.

No reference I've found says anything about woodrats hopping,
but the mouse did that too.
I guess hopping is just what you do when you're a rodent suddenly set free.

I was only able to snap one picture before it disappeared.
It's not in focus,
but at least I managed to catch it with both hind legs off the ground.